Two Souls One War
by Allistar
Summary: Vietnam War AU - verse. Bruce Wayne is a scientist looking for a cure for malaria when he helps save a young soldier by the name of Peter Parker. Who knows what will come for these two in the middle of a war they can't control. And they might learn what it means to truly know someone; and that you cannot save everyone. Warnings: Cursing, blood, war, possible R - rate themes, SLASH!
1. Repair

To be completely truthful, I never thought I would be were I am now. To define "where" I am in the middle of a war. The Vietnam War to be exact. I work here as one of the leading scientists in search of a way to fight off malaria that almost seemed to kill men just as much as the guns.

"Dr. Wayne?"

I turned around to face my colleague, Dr. Harvey Dent. He looked at me with a mask of exhaustion that I had come accustomed too over the weeks and months of working side – by – side together. At first he was a great optimist; always quick to smile and willing to help. We had become sort of like brothers, he and I. But the months of all work and no play have taken a toll on us all. Not to mention the never – ending war that took place at our front step.

"Yes Dent?" I responded, "Any luck?"

He sighed and shook his head, "Afraid not. Bobo's been getting worse."

I winced at the sound of that. Bobo is our little adopted orangutan we use to test our vaccines. He had become infected with the malaria virus when he was in the wild. Though we weren't sure until we tested him for it. We have been able to keep him alive, but barley. He has been getting worse for a while now.

Unfortunately we all have a soft spot for the ape. Bobo had become very friendly with us after a while and loved to play. Seeing him in pain was hard. There has been talk of putting him down lately.

I rubbed my eyes and got up from my seat, "Lead the way."

Harvey and I walked to the cage were Bobo sat. Indeed he did look worse.

"Has he eaten anything?"

Dent shook his head, "He hasn't wanted anything all day. Will hardly lift his head for us." He replied somberly.

I closed my eyes as the wave of grief fell over me.

Finally I told him, "If he does not get better soon, I want you to put him down."

Harvey looked shocked then hurt when he heard me, "But – not Bobo! He's such a good boy. He's helped us so much and is just a sweet little guy. I don't think… I could…." He gazed sadly at the beloved orangutan.

I patted his shoulder, "I know. But that's why we should put him out of his misery."

I turned my back on him and walked off. Once I arrived at my desk I didn't know what to do. I sat there for a while, just staring at nothing before I decided to organize my desk. I had uncovered the majority of the filth that lay scattered on my desk when I found an old photo. It wasn't just an old photo – it was _the_ old photo.

This photo was faded and bent from years of age and moving around. It showed a picture of a dark haired women and a dark haired man with a mustache; that I usually compared to a comb. Beside them stood an older man with brown hair that was flecked with grey and was receding. He too had a mustache, though more like the ones you would see on a butler in an old movie. In the middle was a young boy no older then five. The little boys name was Bruce Wayne. And this was a picture of his family.

I always brought this picture around with me, no matter what. It was one of the few things I can remember of my mother and father. They are dead and have been for many years.

My father and mother were running a small bank when they died. In fact they died there. Were killed there. A robber came and ordered for them to give him all of their money. When they wouldn't give it to him they were shot dead. My dad was dead on the spot, my mother died soon after she was sent to the hospital. I came to see her just in time. Just before she gave her final breath she told her goodbyes and gave her love. Then she was gone.

Afterward I was sent to live with my godfather. Alfred Pennyworth. He had been good friends with my mom and dad and I knew him all my life. He is the closest thing I have to a father.

I don't know how long I was gazing at the weathered photograph when I felt an urgent tap on my shoulder.

"Wayne? Dr. Wayne?"

For the second time that day I turned around to face one of my colleagues.

Curt Conners face looked flushed, probably from running all the way from the medical facility to here.

"Dr. Conners! Whats wrong?" I asked.

"I'll explain on the way! C'mon theres no time!" He didn't wait for me to get up and was out the door.

I sprinted after him and caught up with him quickly.

"What is going on?" I asked again.

"A soldier was shot early this morning! When he didn't report to breakfast some others were sent after him to go find him." He gasped between sentences, "He was on sentry duty, we are pretty sure he was shot this morning though."

"What about the wound?"

"He was shot in the shoulder and the leg! Missed all the important stuff but he still lost a lot of blood and is running a high fever! We think the wounds might be infected!" He gasped again and clutched his chest before he continued, "All the other doctors are taking care of other patients and I need help! Or else this kid is going to die!"

I almost flinched when he said, "kid".

I nodded.

We ran like that all the way to the medical facility where the patients were held. Curt lead me to the soldier he was telling me about. He was set against the east wall beside a table.

He wasn't kidding when he said kid.

This boy couldn't have been older than twenty. He had a runners build but still scrawny. He had walnut brown hair that lay plastered against his forehead from sweat. His skin was a sickly mix of pale and green. A piece of his shirt was cut open to show a small hole in his right shoulder and the same with his pants but right above the knee. His breathing came in short, pained pants.

Curt rushed to the boy's side immediately, "Peter? Peter, can you hear me?"

The boy's blue eyes fluttered open.

Peter's breath shook when he tried to breath, "D… doctor?"

Curt's face relaxed when Peter finally responded, "Yes Peter. It's going to be okay. I brought a friend of mine and he's going to help patch you up."

Peter looked all around the room before his eyes settled on me. I bit the inside of my cheek when my brown eyes met his blue ones.

The young soldier nodded slightly, "The rooms…. moving…."

Curt bit his lip, "Yes, you lost a lot of blood. But we are going to have to take out the bullet before we put any blood in you though. Just… don't go to sleep, okay?"

Peter's eye's fluttered, "Yeah…"

Dr. Conners started taking out his tools while addressing to me.

"There is an exit wound on the shoulder but the one on his leg still has the bullet in it. We need to work fast, can you take the bullet out while I take care of his shoulder?"

I didn't respond but started preparing the kids leg.

I trained in the medical field after getting my PhD so when things were hectic at the medical facility I helped out with what I could. I always find it hard to sleep afterward when I do.

As I picked out the blunt piece of metal out of the young mans flesh, I found myself peaking at his face. Trying to find out if he was in any pain, or if he was feeling anything at all. He was biting onto the bullet Dr. Conner gave him with grim determination; his face was contorted into a mask of pain. His pale cheeks were burning red from the pain and exhaustion. I could see the lights reflecting off his tears that fell from his eyes.

The task at hand was risky one. Especially with moaning and screaming patients all around us. When a particularly loud shriek pierced the air I jerked while pulling the bullet out of his leg. Peter scream of agony was muffled by the piece of metal between his teeth.

"Sorry." I muttered as I continued my work.

Once we finished my forehead was sticky with sweat and Peter did not look any better. Conners ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

"How are you feeling?" He asked the young soldier.

Peter looked like he was on the verge of unconscious yet his eyes stayed open and his voice, although horse, was still in working condition.

"Can't… say I… feel any b… better…" He admitted.

"You did good." I told him.

His eyes fluttered to me, he smiled weakly.

"Thanks."

I nodded, "Its not a problem."

Curt stepped forward with a glass of water in his hand, "Peter, you're going to have to stay up a little while longer and drink some fluid."

Peter sighed but did not complain. I could see him swallow the water Curt dribbled down his throat.

Peter was on his second glass of water when a young man charged towards the three of us. This man had curly brown locks and was taller then Peter.

"Hey! Pete! Are you okay?" he called.

The soldier lifted his head and grinned slightly. I could see some of the color come back in his cheeks and the fact he could lift his head an inch off the pillow seemed like an accomplishment all on its own.

"Hey Harry."

This Harry arrived at the opposite side of Curt. I was at the foot of the bed. I didn't feel like leaving.

Curt looked at Harry and asked, "Do you know him?"

Harry nodded, "Yes, we're in the same team. Is he going to be okay?"

"H – Harry I'm going to be fine. You should get back before Corporal Jameson before he realizes you're gone." Peter reprimanded.

"Ah, that old man can't scare me Pete!"

Peter gave him a look of exasperation, "Oh? Really?"

Harry was silent for a moment before admitting, "Okay, yeah. He scares the living shit out of me."

Peter shook his head weakly. "I'll be out of here before you know it."

Harry sighed and nodded, "Yeah, okay. Dads not gonna be happy when he hears this…"

Peter chuckled, which turned into a hacking fit. I immediately got up and took the glass from Curt, which I then started dribbling down Peters throat until his coughing subsided.

"Are you alright now?"

Peter smiled, "Yeah thanks… uh…"

"Wayne. Bruce Wayne."

"Thank you Doctor Wayne."

I kept was getting up to refill the glass of water when Conners stopped me.

"I'll go refill it. I need to stretch my legs anyway."

I nodded and let him go. I rubbed my eyes as I half – listened to the soldiers banter back and forth at each other until I felt my self starting to drift off. I snapped my self awake just in time for the soldier, Harry, to leave.

I didn't realize Peter was watching me until I heard him ask, "Tired… huh?"

"You're one to talk."

Peter was starting to look worse again. And in deep need of sleep. But I wasn't entirely sure that was the best thing until Dr. Conners came back.

I leaned forward, "So, Peter. It sounds like you and Harry know each other from before the war."

Peter nodded, "Yeah, we've known each other since we were in kindergarten. He'd be the one to get glue all over the table and I would be the one to save his ass."

I felt a small smile tug at the corners of my lips. It was an odd sensation, since I didn't have a reason to smile much anymore. Not lately at least.

"Alright, I'm back." I head Curt say from behind me.

I sighed and reached for the glass Conners had in his hand. I may be tired, but I've been through worse. Conners on the other hand looked like he hadn't slept in a week.

"Go, get some rest. I'll watch him." I told him.

Curt shook his head, "No, Wayne. I can't ask you to do that. You already have work to do in the lab."

I waved the remark aside. "You look like you haven't had a good sleep in decades. Go, just let me know when he should sleep."

Curt ran a hand over his face and studied Peter, who was watching as intently as one in his condition could, until he finally nodded.

"Okay, okay. As soon as he gets something in his stomach he can sleep. There is a nurse coming in a sec with dinner for him, I can ask her to bring some for you too if you need it."

I shook my head. I wasn't particularly hungry at the moment.

He nodded, "Okay then. Peter?"

"Yes?"

"You head what I said, don't go to sleep until you have something in you're stomach. Then you can sleep. Just don't stay that way, okay?"

Peter smiled weakly, "Yeah, okay. Promise."

Conners grinned at the boy before leaving us alone with the other patients.

After asking Peter if he was thirsty I tipped the rim of the glass on his lip and let the clear liquid into his mouth. Not long after the nurse came with Peter's food and left.

Peter ate his food slowly, as if testing it out to see if he could hold it. I let him eat with his left hand with what he could, but I mostly hand – fed him. He got through most of it before refusing any more.

As his mind edged towards unconscious he turned to me and said, "Doctor Conners said something like you worked in a lab?"

I nodded, "Yes, I am working with some scientists here on a cure for malaria. I just help out here when I'm needed."

Peter nodded in awe, "Wow. Sounds like a lot of hard work. Don't you sleep?"

I nodded, but then added, "Its hard sometimes. Things start catching up with you after a while."

Peter gave me a grim nod, "I always wanted to be a scientist. A doctor maybe. Someone who can help people and make this world better place. Keep people from dying." He yawned, "Thank you Dr. Wayne. I don't think I would be here right now if it weren't for you. " he added sleepily.

His eyes closed and his breath evened. I waited until I knew he was asleep before replying, "You're welcome."


	2. Alike

**AUTHORS NOTE: I am so sorry, I realized I was misspelling Curt Connors name. I blame Wikipedia. Fixed it!**

I'm not sure how long I watched the boy soldier sleep, all I really remember is watching his steady breathing until I fell under the spell myself.

I don't remember what I dreamt about, but I do remember a terrifying sinking feeling. The feeling of falling and not knowing where I will land, do you know that feeling? Then an unexpected feeling of floating; like in water. And even though the fear was still there, I felt… more at peace. It was an unexpected, terrifying, _wonderful_ peace.

I woke up to moaning and screaming.

As I drifted towards consciousness I had had forgotten where I was. My cheek was touching something course but soft that smelled strongly of hospital and sweat. My back ached from my uncomfortable sleeping position, I heard it pop when I moved into a sitting position. I finally opened my eyes and remembered. Peter was watching me with a curious expression. With one eye brow higher then the other.

"Sorry if I woke you." He apologized.

I shook my head, "You're fine. How long have I been asleep?"

Peter shrugged, "I'm not sure. A couple hours maybe. Dr. Connors came by once."

I hummed and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. After stretching I asked, "When will he be back?"

"He said he'd be back soon."

We sat in slightly – awkward silence for a while. I rubbed my stubble before asking, "How are you feeling?"

Peter smiled, "To be completely truthful not great. I _did_ just get shot yesterday." He quirked an eye - brow at me, grinning.

I felt a smile tug at my lips, "You're a bit of a smart mouth, maybe we should do something about that."

Peter's mouth closed but I swear I could see a small grin, "Sorry."

I shook my head. This kid I swear.

"Where did you come from Peter?"

He looked surprised at the sudden question but didn't hesitate to answer, "Manhattan. In New York." Then he added, "But I was raised in the Queens."

"Well, if I knew you're a New Yorker I would've punched you in the jaw by now."

The look on his face was priceless, and I couldn't help but burst into a fit of laughter. When I finally wiped at the tears from my eyes I noticed the look Peter was giving me.

"I'm not amused." He pointed out.

"It was a joke. I'm from Chicago. Gotham City to be exact."

Peter's cerulean eyes widened to the size of saucers.

"_Gotham City? _As in **_the_**Gotham City?"

"I'm pretty sure there's only one Gotham City."

He shook his head. "Wow. You must be made of steel to live there."

I shrugged, "I get by." I said cautiously.

Peter gave me a curious look before fiddling with the sheets.

"Whats on your mind?" I asked, curious myself.

"…. Just… wondering what your not saying." He mumbled.

My eye - brows raised in surprise, "How do you know I'm not telling you something?"

Peter gave me a look, "Well I definitely know now."

I mentally slapped myself.

Peter just shrugged, "Doesn't matter. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

I gazed at the young man's face and found myself distracted by his freckles, "How did you know I was keeping to myself in the first place?"

"Its sort of an… intuition. I've had it since I was a kid. I just kinda know when things are gonna happen. And when people are lying, or just not telling the whole truth."

I thought about this. There was definitely rumors of humans with abilities such as this, though there was no solid scientific proof. I kept my opinions to myself until I had a first hand experience. Guess I just got it.

"Well, that certainly is something. Is it hereditary?" I asked.

Peter looked away, "I don't know. I… never really asked. But I'm pretty sure that I'm the only one." He gave me a sheepish smile.

I nodded, "I was just curious."

Peter shook his head, "Its okay."

Peter fidgeted before asking, "So… whats it like in Gotham?"

I thought about it for a sec before answering, "Rough."

"Specifics?"

I gave him a grim smile before going into the every – day life of Gotham. There was always a robbery, a jail - break, or a murder going on. Living here was not for the faint of heart. A simple jog could turn into the most grisly man - slaughter if one is not careful. Seeing headlines such as that became an everyday thing for the citizens of Gotham. Fathers would call over his shoulder to his wife while she was making breakfast saying something similar to, "Oh look honey. That psychopath got out of jail again. Make sure to lock the extra bolt on your way to work today." The police force was one of the worst in America. Some of the police might even be conspiring with drug – dealers, so said the newspaper the day before I left. I had just graduated from college when I was asked to help with the cure for malaria. So I never really got a chance to work, well, not _then._

"In my high school years I worked as a super market clerk. Until we were held at gun point that is."

"What did you do?"

"What any sane Gothamite would do. Beat him with his own gun and call the cops."

Peter's jaw went slack, "No way. That guy had you at gun point and you just took him out?"

I shrugged, "I'd lose my pay if I didn't. Doesn't matter anyway, my godfather forbade I work as a supermarket clerk ever again. Unfortunately after that incident I could never find work again."

"Why not?"

"I suspect blackmail."

"Well, it seems you two have gotten cozy."

I turned around to see Dr. Connors behind me with a tray of food in each hand.

"Morning Bruce. Thought you might be hungry." He said handing me a tray.

As I started my meal I listened to Connors reporting that Peter was in stable condition but will not be released from the medical facility anytime soon. The lab, on the other hand, was an inch from chaos and that I should leave as soon as I finish my breakfast.

I was glad that Peter was stable, but I felt a pang of disappointment when I heard that I would have to leave his side to do my research. I glanced at the soldiers and saw a mirror of what I felt on the boyish face.

"I will still need help keeping a close eye on you until you recover though. Dr. Wayne, do you think - ?"

"Of course. I'll come when I have time and if you need my help just call."

I looked back at Peter and found him giving me a melancholy smile. I gave him a small grin in return.

Once I finished I forced myself from my seat and said good - bye to Curt and Peter and left for the lab.

**PETERS POV**

After Dr. Wayne left I realized that the hospital life is as boring as heck. Excuse me French. Dr. Connors will be by my side most of the time to ask me questions and make sure blood pressure, nervous systems, and bullet wounds were doing fine. He brought me food and water to drink. Also orange juice. Orange juice is cool.

Dr. Connors was an alright guy. A bit of a dork like myself. He wore round spectacles that made his eyes larger and his sandy hair was always pushed to the side. Like mine used to be. You know… the more I look at him the more I realize I might've grown up exactly like him, if not for the war. I'm not really sure what to think about that.

After Dr. Connors second visit I decided to let my mind wander. I found myself thinking of this morning.

I woke up from a deep dreamless sleep when I found the scientist. He was in a sleep of his own, though I wouldn't call it dreamless. His face twitched and his brow furrowed in ways that both confused me and intrigued me. At one point he looked like he was in pain, the next he would smile. His black hair was sprayed over the foot of my bed. I couldn't help noticing that the formal, scary scientist looked very alone, and tired, and weak.

And I wanted that to stop.

I don't know if my thoughts woke him or if he just woke himself. But apologized anyway. Just to be sure.

I learned a lot about him today while we were talking. Gotham City! Can you believe that? Sounds like a cesspool of crime and violence. I would never want to go there. Not even for a free vacation!

While Dr. Wayne was telling me about Gotham, I just got the sense that he wasn't telling me everything. Which kinda hurt. But then again I guess I haven't told him much of myself. I wonder what he's not telling me, but its really not any of my business. So I'll leave it.

I outwardly sighed, and looked at my bandaged arm. Jesus Christ that hurt. Still does somewhat. My leg isn't much better.

I'm not sure when exactly I got shot. I was sitting by my camp keeping watch when I heard a rustling in the grass. At first I thought it was some kind of animal. that is until I heard the whispers. I got up and walked cautiously over the shrub. I didn't want to cause a false – alarm. The other soldiers liked picking on me and pulling pranks like that just to get me into trouble. But this wasn't one of those times. I heard the gun - fire just in time for me to cry out. Then black. I woke up here in the hospital, with Dr. Connors fretting over me like an aunt.

"Hey Pete!"

I jumped out of my thoughts when I saw Harry grinning down at me.

"Hey! Great, your not in coma - WADE GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!"

My jaw dropped, "W – WHY did you bring him here? He's going to break something!"

Harry shook his head, "He promised he wouldn't break anything, Pete. Besides what can possibly go wrong?"

I gave him one of my best, _'What do you think?'_ faces, just as I heard Wade coming down the rows, on a wheel chair, "Wheeing" as loud as he possibly could.

"WHEE – WHE - WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! OH HI PETE-"

_Crash!_

"What were you were saying, Harry?"

Harry grimaced. Wade pulled himself up from the wreckage, looked at us, back at the wreckage and shouted, "I DIDN'T DO IT!" And then ran toward us.

"Hey Pete! Sorry about that gun – shot. But then again, I don't have anything to apologize for. So..." He shrugged.

"Gee. Thanks." I shook my head. "If Jameson finds out you're here…"

"Christ, Pete. Calm down. Just because he scares the piss out of you doesn't mean he does the same to us." Harry told me.

"Literally _Scares the Piss Out Of You_!" Wade jeered, smirking.

I gave them both a look, "How many times have we been over this. I already had a full blatter and I didn't expect him to jump at me like that." I flushed in embarrassment. That day had not been a good one.

It was our first time meeting Corporal Jameson. The meanest man alive. I had gotten to the washrooms last so it was either, relieve myself, or, take a shower. I didn't like looking like a walking mud man, so shower it was. Biggest mistake of my life, or maybe I'm just being melodramatic. Anyway, that morning Jameson was giving us a "talking to" which was actually scaring us all into submission. I can say first hand that it worked.

I felt uncomfortable thanks to my bladder. To the others I probably looked intimidated by Jameson. Which wasn't true at all. Sure he was mean, but it was too early for judgment. That changed when he was passing by me and then was suddenly in my face, screaming at me! I might've not been scared before, but I was sure as Hell scared then. And in that moment I lost control of my bladder. Oh God that was so embarrassing. I've been labeled "Pissy Pants" ever since. That accident has also been the cause of all the pranks pulled on my as well. What would I give to have never met Jameson…

But he wasn't all - bad, he had his moments… Can't think of any right now. But he does.

Wade waved me off, "Yeah yeah. We get it Peter Pan. But seriously! Where are your battle marks?!" He grabbed my ankle, yanking my leg.

"Watch it, Wade! That's not funny!" I yelped.

Harry pushed Wade a bit from me, "Be careful, Wade. You're in hot water already and we don't want anything to happen, do we?"

My eyes got wide as I noticed a confrontation staring, "H – Hey guys! That's enough! I'm fine! Don't start a fight here, please!"

They glanced at me and stepped away from each other, though they were still tense. Harry and Wade aren't on the best of terms. After a prank Wade pulled on him a while ago. Harry has never been able to scrub all of the itching powder off of his clothes since. But after Wade saved his life once, disarming a bomb just in time for Harry to step on it. They had a grudging respect for each other ever since.

Wade says he doesn't really know why he hangs out with us, except that were "Entertainment". Wade was okay on most occasions, and always a laugh, but he does go overboard. A lot.

Harry and I knew each other since Kindergarten. Been best friends ever since. When my I was orphaned he and his father, Norman Osborn took me in.

My parents were killed in a plane crash when I was really young. My Aunt May and Uncle Ben took me in then. They were the best people, the kindest, the most hardworking, the most loving. They shouldn't have died. My Uncle was still young enough to go to the Vietnam War when it began. So that's what he did. He thought it was his duty to protect his country, and his family. How could he have known that he would break our already tiny home when he left and never came back?

After we found out Uncle Ben died we were never the same. I became more reserved, hardly ever coming out of my room. And Aunt May, she was almost the same. But she stayed strong, until she got cancer. The doctors didn't find it in time and it was already to late to do anything. She died six months later.

I was sixteen.

There are times when I think, if I just got out of my room. Stopped pushing her away, then I would've seen the signs. We could have gotten her to the doctor in time. But I know that's nothing but s silly dream now. Theres no use crying over spilled milk.

Harry, Wade, and I chatted for a bit more until Dr. Connors came back and shooed them away so I could take my medicine.

As soon as all the shots and pills were somewhere in my system I asked, "So, when is Dr. Wayne coming back?"


	3. Letters

**Authors Note: Sorry guys, this ones a bit short. And in the original shot there was different fonts for the letters but *flips table* I was thinking about an icon for this story if anyone is willing to submit any that would be fantastic! And thank you, people who have taken time to read this story. I know this particular pairing isn't too popular but... *shrug* Any comments of support will be appreciated.**

"What? Really?!" I asked Dent.

Harvey nodded enthusiastically, "Yes! Bobo's condition might be turning around!"

I ran a hand through my hair, "Oh my God. Wasn't yesterday that I asked you to put him down?"

Harvey shrugged, "I know! I can't believe it either." He grinned the biggest smile I've seen in months. I returned it with equal measure.

I groped for a seat and to fall into. I'm still trying to understand _how._ How did this happen? Bobo was an inch from death yesterday afternoon, and suddenly he's eaten three cups of food and drinking water with renewed vengeance. He was still inactive and slow to pick up things, but he was eating and that's a lot to ask for.

I threw myself back on my feet and headed to the cage to see this for myself. Sure enough, there he was. Slowly suckling the water being fed to him from another scientist. I kneeled to get a better look at him and smiled at him when he looked at me. I waved, hoping he would do the same. But he just went back to his water. We'd get back to that later.

"This… Harvey, this is fantastic! Do you think it was because of the vaccines?"

Harvey shook his head, "I don't know Bruce. It's a mystery to every one. I would like to think so, though."

I grimaced slightly. If we don't know how he got better….

"I think its in our best interests that we find out how this is happening." I told Dent, "If we do we can finally get a cure."

Harvey nodded frantically, "Of course! I'll make sure to keep an eye on him and run some tests as well!"

I nodded, "Good." I was just about to walk away when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Yes?"

"I almost forgot, you have some letters. I was given them to give to you." Dent smiled.

I felt a smile tug at my lips as I looked through the small stack of letters.

One from Alfred, two from Tim, one from Barbara, and two from Dick, and – wait Selena?!

I hurried to my desk to open the letters. First was Alfred.

_Dear Bruce,_

_I'm afraid its been too long since I last wrote to you. Work has been catching up to me. You would think I would be too old to work when you are my age! Well, I'm afraid not._

_How are things at the war? Have you found the secret formula yet? You haven't gotten shot have you? Made any acquaintances? Friends perhaps?_

_We're doing alright back here in Gotham. Though I hope for not too long. I don't know if I say this a lot, but I am proud of you. For everything. And I do love you. As dose a lot of people. So you better get back here in one piece Bruce, or I think Babara might blow a fuse._

_Sincerely, Alfred Pennyworth_

_P.S. I almost forgot (And I'm sure Tim has) Tim has been accepted into many Forensic and Criminal Justice colleges all over the country! I believe he is looking into the New York area though._

I smiled, its good to know things have been going well back at home. And Tim! That lucky dog. Well, I think Dick's is up next.

_Dear Bruce,_

_Hey, I'm sorry things haven't been going on back at the lab. I wish there was something I could do. But unfortunately I'm kind of stuck here. Trying to make Gotham into a better place. As if. Sometimes its hard to tell the police and the criminals apart! I don't think one man can do much here unfortunately._

_Babara and I are thinking about moving, and taking Tim with us. He wants to go to New York, right? I don't know, I was thinking more on the lines of California. But where - ever you guys go, I'll follow._

_Oh, by the way. I finally did it. I proposed to Babara! And she said yes! Can you believe that? I can't! But, man Bruce I haven't been this giddy since my fifth birthday!_

_Anyway, how are things doing? Any better? How is the ape, Bobo? I think you told me he wasn't doing so well. I hope you're okay. Don't go doing anything you will regret. You have a lot of people here that care about you and we wouldn't be the same without you._

_From: Dick Grayson._

Thank God. Its about time he proposed to her. Dick has been falling for Babara since high – school. I'm really happy for them.

The second envelope was filled with pictures of Alfred, Dick, Babara, and Tim. Some were of Tim's graduation that I missed and some were them just hanging around the dinner table. One was of them at Christmas time, another was at the Fourth of July. I think its about August right now. Tim should be going to school this year, if not next year.

And there was a picture of Barbara and Dick holding each others hand, they had engagement rings on. And finally a slip of paper that said:

_We love you, Bruce. Don't ever forget that. - BG_

_We miss you. Remember, where – ever you go. We will follow. – DG_

_Come back in one piece, Bruce. We'll be waiting - TD_

_Bruce, you are like your father, yet so much stronger - AP_

I felt a tear fall down my face as I stared at the little slip of paper. I quickly wiped it away before anyone could see and carefully put ever photo and the little slip of paper back in the envelope.

I quickly turned to Barbara's letter and tore it open.

_Hello Bruce,_

_How are things? I heard from Dick that Bobo hasn't been doing too well. I am very sorry to hear that. From what you say about him the little guy sounds like such a big sweetheart._

_On a brighter note, I just released my first book! I called it, "Surviving in Shadows" I'm going to send you the script once its edited. I got a lot of money out of it! Enough to move!_

_Oh, I'm not sure if Dick has told you, but he and I are getting married! Isn't that great! I was thinking of putting some of the money from the book into Tim's college fund, some for the wedding and honeymoon, and another sum for a new house!_

_I don't want us all to stay away from each other. I mean – we were practically raised together, Bruce! And Tim, we raised him! Tim wants to go to college in New York. Did you hear? He got accepted into so many colleges! I'm so proud of him. Dick says he wants to live in California or Texas. But I don't think Texas heat and I are going to get along well._

_How are you, though? Any closer to that miracle formula yet? Made any friends? Have you gotten ill? Please take care of yourself, Bruce. Please, we love you. So just, get home soon okay?_

_With love, Barbara Gordon_

Barbara sold her book! That's fantastic. I'll need to read it. Now lets see what Tim sent…

_Hey Bruce,_

_We've missed you back at home. I'm glad you're working on that malaria vaccine and all, but things aren't the same without you. Please get home in one piece._

_Guess what? I got accepted! In a lot of colleges and most of them give degrees in forensic and criminal justice! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! I want to go to school in New York. Barbara says that she's going to help me with funding. But I can't let her do that. You guys have done so much for me already. I didn't want to choose a school until you looked over it. I'm sending it in a different letter, okay._

_I don't think I'm going to school yet, not until you get home. That way we can all move together. I mean – if you want to move._

_Whats going on in Frankenstein's Laboratory? Any luck? Hows the monkey? Are you doing okay?_

_Can't wait to see you when you get back._

_Tim Drake_

I grabbed Tim's other envelope and looked through the names of colleges Tim had gotten accepted in. Wow, there really is a lot. Good. I'll make sure to go through it more in depth later.

Lastly, Selena's letter.

Selena was my ex. We were going to get married, but we broke it off. We found we didn't… compliment each other as we thought we did. I don't know why it took me as long as it did to figure that out. We tried to stay as friends, even though we get under each others skin. But work and the war had gotten in the way of that.

_Bruce Wayne,_

_I know you probably weren't expecting a letter from me, but you're getting one. I know you're in the war, and I hope you don't die. But there is something we need to talk about._

_I understand why you didn't want to marry me. And I'm not judging you because of that. But you should here about this before you move right back into Gotham._

_Do not come back to Gotham. Move. Out of the city. As soon as you're discharged. Take your family and get out of here._

_There are gangs here that are seeking out people like you. They have burned down three buildings, killed four people. Mutilated ten others. Please Bruce, don't come back. If not for your sake, then for the sake of the ones around you. Your godfather, Alfred. Barbara, Dick, Tim, me. Shit Bruce if you don't leave I will kick you out!_

_I don't know if everyone else knows, but I'm not telling them. I want you to know that I still have feelings for you. Though they are not the same as they were. This might be the last time I send you a letter. Listen to it._

_Selena Kyle_

Good God.

I wasn't expecting that.

I leaned back into my seat and thought. What will I do? If this gang finds out what I am, they might not come at me. They might target my family.

I looked through my letters and decided, New York. Yes, most of my family agrees on that. And I already know someone there. I'll have to tell them all. Send them letters and give them access to my bank accounts. I'll have them ready to go as soon as I'm out of this Hell Hole. Maybe I should talk to Peter about this. He's lived in New York his whole life. He can help, maybe. If he lives through this.

I rubbed my eye - brows then got up to wash my face. As I stared into my reflection I noticed that I didn't look at all like the man that left Gotham city nine months ago. My eyes had become blood – shot twenty four seven. My lips were chapped, my chin was stubbled, my hair was a wreck. I remembered back to the photo of my parents, Alfred, and I. If I didn't know it was me in the picture, I would've called him a stranger.

I had three months left and I could leave. I wonder how much longer Peter had. With his wounds he might be let out early.

Probably.


	4. Nightmare

**Authors Note: Sorry I haven't been updating! School's been catching up on me. o(；△；****)o Here's another chapter fresh out of the oven! Reviews would be appreciated. The more the better! (^^;**

I winced when I felt Dc. Connors put the medicine on the wound on my leg, he will look my to my shoulder after he was done there. It turns out I did get an infection in my leg. He will treat my shoulder just in case.

That morning when I woke up I was in immense pain and tired as Hell. A nurse came over to my bed and after one look at me she ran for Dr. Connors. I fought to keep my eyes open when they wanted to close and let me sleep the pain away. But I wouldn't let myself do that. I heard horror stories of what happens to soldiers who close their eyes during infections, though its probably only to scare us awake, I would have none of it.

Dr. Connors came soon after, took a look at my leg wound, and told me I had an infection. So that brings me to where I am now.

I didn't want to lift my head and see my oozing red wound. It hurt enough for me know that it was bad. I just hoped I wouldn't need an amputation or my shoulder wound will not be as bad. It was much closer to my neck and face, and, well, I don't think they created head transplants yet.

I tried to take my mind off the pain by thinking of other things. I thought of my trip to Coney Island with my Uncle Ben. The time I stole a piece of one of Aunt May's pies she made for church and ended up having to paint the whole kitchen by myself (Uncle Ben came and helped when we though she was asleep. The next day I got Aunt May cooked my favorite dinner and blueberry sugar cookies for dessert) When Mr. Osborn and Harry came over for the Thanksgiving before Uncle Ben left. And all in all, my wound didn't feel so bad in comparison to the wound inside. I'm broken and I know it. That's why I'm the way I am.

Then I remembered my first crush. Her name was Mary Jane Watson. She was the girl next door. She was beautiful and an amazing actress. I was awed by the way she held herself with such confidence. As if she could take on the world and still have time for afternoon tea. She stood up for me when I was bullied and after she would just smile at me and say, "You shouldn't let those guys say what your worth. Only you can say what your worth. Okay?" and I would be too nervous to say anything, and only nod like the dork I was.

But I lost my chance. She got hooked up with Harry. I'm not jealous, Harry is my brother and if he's happy I was happy. I don't think I can have those kind of feelings anyway, people I let close to me usually end up getting hurt. Even Harry doesn't know me as well as he thinks. But, there was always this one thing that… worried me when I thought about feelings like that. I… noticed things about men. Like, the shapeliness of their hips or faces. I would immediately take not that, 'Wow, that guys eyes are so pretty.' or 'Woah, he has a nice butt.' And 'Uh, w – wow. He has such a nice face.' Just as much as I noticed them as noticed things with girls. Does this mean something is wrong with me? I asked my Aunt May about these things and she told me that there was nothing wrong with me. That I simply like guys as much as I like girls. "But" she also told me, "You have to be careful about who you approach with these feelings. There are many people out there who think that boys liking boys and girls liking girls is a bad thing. If you were ever to fall in love with another man then make sure he knows. If he was worth it, he wouldn't hate you for your love, even if he doesn't feel the same."

I'm so glad that Aunt May doesn't think I'm some kind of freak.

I mean… didn't.

Damn, now I'm depressed.

I soon felt my eyes droop from exhaustion. I glanced down only to see my leg wrapped up and Dr. Connors watching me from his chair. I was so lost in thought I didn't notice him finish.

Curt caught my eye then answered my unspoken question, "Yes, go ahead. You may sleep."

I smiled at him gratefully before letting my mind turn blank.

I dreamed I was at an airport. But it wasn't one I recognized, at least not right away. It looked similar to the LaGuardia Airport in Manhattan; except all the color seemed to be washed out. The effect was a bit nauseating but I can't deny my interest was piqued. Why would I dream of this place? I've only been there once when I was waiting for Harry's father to come home from a business trip to sign the legal guardian papers. I can't say it was a pleasant time.

I studied my surroundings a tad more and found myself by the newspaper stand. I picked up a newspaper only to find it covered in scribbles of tall buildings and bats. And a single word repeated over and over again.

"Need?" I asked to no one in particular, "What do you – I – need?"

Just then the paper dissolved into black sand in my hands! I gasped as the midnight colored dust littered the bleached white floor. But the sound was not of sand tinkling against tile but one of loud gongs and bells! And I was in the center of the reverberating noise; I could swear my ears would bleed until the bells suddenly stopped.

I cautiously removed my hands from my ears, unknowing if the sound would return.

I gazed at the black sand once more, as if I were waiting for it to tell me what the Hell was going on here. Or maybe an arrow. An arrow would be useful. But no such miracle occurred. I sighed and stuffed my hands into my jeans – huh? I peaked at my clothing and found I was wearing my favorite outfit! My pair of navy blue jeans that had long since frayed around the bottom, an old pair of comfortable tennis shoes that still had dirt on them from my morning jog, and a red jumper that was a bit too big so the sleeves covered most of my hands. Which didn't usually matter since I rolled them up half the time anyway. I beamed at my appearance. It felt too long since I wore my usual clothes. Then I spoiled the moment when I remembered this was only a dream and none of this was really going on.

I thought I heard something like an echoed foot – fall and looked up. Way off into the distance was what I guessed a figure of a man. I found myself walking towards it. Hey, if this is a dream I can't get hurt right? There was no answer from the figure who – who just seemed to be going farther away! My walk became a jog, then my jog became a run, then my run became a sprint.

"Excuse me? Who are you!" I yelled at the black figure. I'm not sure why I keep running towards it but something about it just pulled me to it. C'mon STOP GETTING AWAY!

It felt like I ran for hours! Just constant dashing towards the unknown figure crouching in the never - ending hallway that just kept getting longer!

I felt my foot catch on something, "AURGH!"

I felt dizzy and even more nauseated then before! It took me some time to recover from the fall then I tried rising back onto my feet; but it felt like whatever had tripped me wasn't just a rock. I turned around – not really sure what I was expecting (but it sure wasn't this!) – and saw the black sand had hooked around my ankle like a vice and was steadily consuming more of my leg!

"G – GET OFF!" I yelled. Yeah, this was a dream; but I'm sure if creepy black sand had you by the foot you would've shrieked like a little girl too.

I struggled to release my foot from the mass but no luck! It seemed the more I struggled the more it grew! I looked back at the figure and screamed for it to help me.

"HELP ME! PLEASE!"

But not a second had gone since the words left my mouth when the figure shrieked too! I felt my jaw go a little slack when I saw that it was the sand! Except – the sand had changed its form! The eerie substance had changed itself into a monster bat! One with huge fangs and ginormous wings that took up the whole hall. I watched in horror as it descended onto the cowering figure. Once it rose… the man was gone.

I swallowed heavily.

My fear only grew when I the monster turned to me. It let out a piercing cry, not unlike the bells that I heard earlier, then rushed towards me! I couldn't escape since the sand still had me in its claws!

The last thing I remember before waking up was the maw of the creature that looked bizarrely like the night sky.

**BRUCE'S POV**

I didn't know when I got up from my desk, or when I found myself striding towards the medical center, all I knew was something felt wrong and my feet knew what. I let them lead me to the medical facility and I stopped. I looked back and forth for the solution to that near painful sensation in my gut.

I am not usually one to go on pure instinct. It is something I tend to avoid usually sticking to facts. Maybe it was the fact I was so tired that I succumbed to my intuition. Or maybe I was curious to what was making me so damn uncomfortable.

Eventually my eyes strayed to a certain chestnut – haired patient. My eyes narrowed at Peter's figure as it seemed intent on curling into itself so much it would snap his spinal cord. I rushed to his side as quickly as I could without bothering the other patients. He was fast asleep.

"Peter?" I asked.

Now that I was closer to him I could see something was wrong. His eye – brows were furrowed in what was either pain or focus. His neck had a sheen of sweat on it. I gingerly touched it and found it cold. I glared at the salt water on my hand as if it was the cause of this. I was snapped out of it by a small whimper emitting from Peter's lips - which were pulled into a thin line.

"Parker? Parker wake up!" I called to him.

I got no answer from the soldier.

'We'll just have to do things this way, huh.' I thought as I reached for Peter's shoulder's and shook him awake.

Peter awoke with a startled curse. He was gasping as if he just ran a marathon. Which might've been plausible in his dream.

He put a hand over his chest to make sure he was still here then pinched himself. He winced but seemed satisfied he was no longer dreaming. I noticed his adams apple bobbing as he took a noisy gulp. He finally turned back to me and rubbed his eyes. After he finished he stared back at me with his blue eyes.

"B – Bruce?" He asked.

I nodded, "Yes. Nightmares?"

He bit his lip before nodding his head, "Was it obvious?"

I raised an eye – brow at him.

Peter chuckled nervously, "Okay… So, thanks for waking me up."

"No problem. How are your wounds?"

"Did Dr. Connors tell you? I got an infection in the wound on my leg."

No. Dr. Connors didn't tell me anything.

"What? Are you alright? Did he check your shoulder?"

Peter was the one to raise his brow at me this time. I felt the barest hint of flush rising into my cheeks. To be honest I had no idea what brought this reaction out of me. Then Peter was laughing at me. Not in an unkind way but I still took offense. I am not one to be laughed at.

"Geez Bruce, its okay. I guess he didn't tell you after all. Yeah, he checked the one on my shoulder too. Nothing particularly wrong with it but he treated it all the same."

I narrowed my eyes at him (as I still took offense for the outburst of laughter from him). Normally I would storm out of a room if anything like that occurred but I just couldn't bring myself to leave the boy in front of me. He was still recover from a bullet wound, an infection, and a nightmare. And even that usually doesn't stop me from getting up and leaving.

But damn that shit – eating grin of his.

Sighing, I pulled up a chair and sat down.

"I don't usually like being laughed at." I pointed out.

Peter smirk grew by just a centimeter, "Sorry."

I grunted, yeah, as if.

Peter watched me from the corner of his eye while I stared at the wall across from me pretending not to notice. We stayed like this for a while until Peter sighed and leaned further into his pillow. He frowned into space and seemed to be lost in thought.

He almost surprised me when he asked, "Do you think they'll send me back?"

I knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Yeah, probably. I've seen soldiers that got shot in the butt and were sent home."

Peter gave me a blank look before throwing his head back in laughter. This time I knew it wasn't directed at me. I felt a small tug at the corners of my lips and I knew I was smiling. Hopefully no one notices.

I let Peter wipe his tears of mirth away just so he could take one look at me then burst back into the laughing fit.

"Are you done?" I asked.

"Ah – Ahaha – y – yeah. Sorry, but that was awesome. Did someone really get shot in the butt?"

I nodded, "Yeah. Someone really got shot in the butt." It might sound funny now, but it wasn't funny then. Bruce recalled the memory with a grimace.

Peter relaxed back into his pillows, grinning at me like a loon. If smiled were contagious, his sure was. Then I remembered the letter from Selena and turned back into my serious demeanor.

"Peter, what is it like in New York?"

Peter looked surprised by my question but answered, "Well, I can't say its great. It's not bad, just kinda noisy. And the crime there isn't the best either. Nothing like Gotham!" He assured me, "Just… big, loud, and crazy. But-" He added, "the Empire State Building is amazing! And if you manage it, you can get a great view of the city. Its really beautiful at night!" He beamed at me.

It sounds strangely like Gotham. But we had nothing like the Empire State building there. And if it really is as nice as Peter says it is…

"My family was thinking about moving there."

"Really?" Peter asked.

I nodded, "Tim wants to go to college there."

Peter cocked his head to the side, "Whos Tim? Your brother?"

"No, none of us are related."

Peter's brows furrowed, "Are you adopted?"

"No." I answered, "I have a godfather whom I lived with. I had two younger friends whom I was practically raised with. Barbara Gordon and Dick Grayson. Then a third was added to the picture. His name is Tim Drake. We lived in the same apartment complex. A nice apartment complex, it was more like a hotel. We became like a family and we've always seen each other as such." I caught myself before I said anything more. I was letting this soldier into my life too much.

Peter opened his mouth then closed it, then opened it again although it took a moment before anything was said.

"So… you're an orphan?"

Of all the things to notice.

"Yes."

Peter nodded, "And I thought I was the only one."

What?

"What?" I asked.

Peter smiled sadly at me, "I'm an orphan too. Harry and his dad took me in when I was sixteen."

I blinked.

"Okay." Okay? Is that all I'm going to say?

Honestly I can't think of anything better _to_ say.


	5. Hiatus

So sorry, my lovely readers. I'm afraid Two Souls One War will be going on hiatus. I'm not sure when we will return to finish this story but it will not go unfinished. Promise.

If any of you wish to message or comment I would be glad you did. The more the merrier!

I hope you all are having a good day

- Allistar


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